Thinking of You Again
by Sunfreak
Summary: Ken's POV, reflecting on Daisuke. Which means . . . YES! Shounen ai! Whoo-hoo! *Fifth Installment Up*
1. Thinking of You Again

I think of you, even now. Even sitting on the edge of the world with someone else's heart in my pocket and three children sleeping in my house, always my thoughts return to you.  
  
I told you that I loved you once, but you didn't really understand what I meant. I wanted to marry you, but I just couldn't say it. Worse, I looked to her after losing you. She is so like you . . . Everyone says it, you know.  
  
I used her. But I think she may have used me too. Because I . . . I am so very like that light that she was so close to for so long. Yet she pulled away, afraid to be burnt, just as I pulled away from you in the end, fearing that I would damn your beautiful soul, or worse, would be rejected.  
  
Although- I still love you. I still want to marry you, to win a place in your heart with the wife that died to give you your son, to take you in my arms and slowly undress you in the moonlight on that wedding night that we will never have. Just to kiss you . . . just once to lie with you in a bed that smells only of you, like when we were children and still had sleepovers. Before we were too old to hug or cuddle up together without being judged.  
  
But again, I still love you. Despite stares, and curses, and lies and such sweet, sweet pain, I still love you, you, and only you. You become beautiful every time you look at me.  
  
I left her yesterday. I finally realized that we were only hurting the children by showing them a loveless marriage as something to aspire to. She cried, but then she thanked me and called her light to tell her the news. I walked out then, but I'll go back. My children will still know their father. And maybe . . . they could know you. And I could know your son too.  
  
Would you like that, Daisuke?  
  
Me too.  
  
*ende* 


	2. Loved You Better

A/N: For Holy and kellyQ, my first-ever reviewers as a thank-you present- the sequel to "Thinking of You Again". Still Ken's POV.  
  
  
  
"Because I Loved You Better"  
  
  
  
Your eyes are large and solemn; all your pain hidden by the sweet lies you tell to pass the time. You are so very strong, my Daisuke, but you need to learn how to mourn openly.  
  
You feel badly for me though; I can tell. If you watch someone for long enough, you can always tell. And I have been watching you for a very, very long time.  
  
But you, it seems, have not watched me half so closely. You think my heart is broken by this divorce. It was finalized today, and I cried from the sheer, precious relief that moment brought my soul. Now, I can say the words to you without betraying the so-sacred bond I share with her.  
  
She really is a wonderful woman, Daisuke. I don't know what business a woman like that has letting herself be cooped up as a housewife.  
  
"Daisuke, I . . ." I begin.  
  
You respond instantly, spilling over with concern for me, fussing like some bizarre version of a mother hen, and I cannot get a word in edgewise, not even to tell you that you are about to drive the car into a ditch. In the backseat, your son tightens his seatbelt resignedly, and I get the suspicious feeling that this is a more common occurrence than one might hope.  
  
"Hikari," I say simply, and you snap out of it, slamming on the brakes in a knee-jerk reaction. Like I said, I know you. Even after all these years, just the mention of that lovely, soothing light calms your passionate soul, because you still love her as deeply as ever.  
  
This word worked for Miyako as well, but now is not the time to think of what that may imply.  
  
And your heart is endless; you love Hikari as deeply and truly as you love your dear wife's memory, and yet you betray neither with your affections. You care for many people, and it never occurs to you that there could or even should ever be any limit to how much you love them.  
  
You are so sudden, Daisuke, always as alive as possible and acting before you think; but still naïve and oftentimes playing the fool.  
  
I believe . . .  
  
Perhaps . . .  
  
Yes, I know the best way to tell you what I think of you.  
  
You park in front of my new apartment and give me a concerned look, inquiring if I will be all right alone. Of course I wouldn't; no one is ever really okay when they are alone. Certainly not anyone who understands what it is to have a digimon partner or to Jogress with the one you love best. But Wormmon is waiting for me, and I can call you any time I want- you said it yourself, after all.  
  
I pause before I get out of the car, turning to you and asking, "Do you know why Miyako and I were divorced?" You shake your head, your eyes curious.  
  
Perfect.  
  
I dart forward, my lips almost brushing against your ear, and whisper, "Because I loved you better." And then I kiss you.  
  
I pull back and smile slightly when I see you staring at me, your beautiful eyes as wide as your face is red.  
  
"Is this okay?" I ask you quietly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.  
  
"Uh-huh," you reply, your voice just as quiet as your blush darkens.  
  
In the backseat, your son's own face is buried in his hands. "Ah, cripes," he mutters. "Um, Ichijouji-san, does this mean I have to break up with your son now?"  
  
  
  
* ende * 


	3. Dating In Triplicate

A/N: Again, dedicated to kellyQ and Holy- kellyQ for insisting that I could indeed go further with this little timeline, and Holy for the terrifically amusing idea that inspired this part of the story.  
  
This installment is far more lighthearted (and has far more innuendo) than "Thinking of You Again" was originally meant to be, but dangit, I just can't leave my angsty stuff alone- I always have to give it a happy ending! ^ ^;; And I do have "Loved You Better" in there for a smooth transition, so hopefully no one will have trouble adjusting.  
  
Still Ken-chan's POV, of course.  
  
  
  
"Dating In Triplicate"  
  
  
  
My Daisuke.  
  
I love the sound of those two words together- my Daisuke, my Daisuke, my Daisuke. Mine and mine alone.  
  
I smile at you next to me and you blush. You've been doing that a lot since I kissed you last night. Your son looks exasperated by this; mine is only puzzled. He does not know why we are here, sitting in a nice restaurant less than twenty-four hours after the finalization of my divorce with our digimon all left at home to "baby-sit" his siblings- never mind that my eldest is a legal adult in any country. He is concerned, though- his eyes flicker to your son's more than once.  
  
No reason to leave him hanging. I lean forward and smile at our children sweetly. "Is there perhaps something you would like to tell us, boys?" I ask.  
  
Now you are the exasperated one; you never did truly master the art of patience. Not that I mind; it means that you should be jumping me any day now. A very pleasant thought indeed.  
  
My son is nervous now, fidgeting in his seat. "About what?" he asks me uncertainly, his eyes again seeking out those eyes that are so like yours but belong to someone else entirely.  
  
Their owner speaks, voice flat: "We're dating. Gonna make something of it, Ichijouji-san?"  
  
My son nearly falls out of his chair and I give yours a dry look. "You are even blunter than your father," I inform him blithely. He looks flattered by the sentiment.  
  
You give me a hurt look. "Blunt? I'm not blunt! Who said that I was- "  
  
I simply put a finger to your lips, a warm laugh bubbling out past my attempt at a scolding expression, and you blush again, deeper this time. It's all that I can do not to kiss you right here, but my son still does not know about our budding relationship, and I would like to break it to him as gently as-  
  
"Our dads are fucking on the sly," your sweet, innocent child announces just as the waitress arrives, snapping his goggles back a bit further on his head.  
  
- possible. Damn.  
  
"About that 'blunt' thing?" you tell me dryly, folding your arms atop the table. "I think I'm starting to see your point."  
  
The waitress twitches slightly. "Are you ready to order?" she asks, her voice deceptively cheery. I make a mental note to tip her well.  
  
"We'll take the chicken," your son replies brightly, then points at you and I. "They'll take the key to the back room."  
  
Very, VERY well.  
  
My own son is now quite officially bewildered, and as you and I place a more, ah, appropriate order, he looks around the table in helpless confusion. Were your offspring and I closer in age, I might consider him to be a bit of a sadistic bastard for doing this to his boyfriend, father, and boyfriend's father.  
  
I offer him a somewhat dubious look and receive a cavity- inducing smile in return. Dear Lord, he's worse than Yamato at his strangest. And Yamato has been a very, very strange person since his first tromp around the Digiworld, according to Sora. According to everyone else, he was plenty screwed up BEFORE he got to the Digiworld, but that isn't really the point I'm trying to make here.  
  
"I could eat you, you know," I tell him flatly.  
  
The smile turns wicked. "That's not YOUR job, Ichijouji-san. Besides, shouldn't you be saving room for Daddy?"  
  
You and my son both turn bright red and attempt to sink underneath the table. What a little pervert you've raised, my dear Daisuke.  
  
I hope it comes from your side of the family.  
  
A few minutes later, a familiar figure enters the restaurant, and we all balk in unison, recognizing it but definitely not expecting it.  
  
"Mom?!" my son yelps in surprise, and yours whistles in appreciation.  
  
"Ichijouji-san, you stupid old man, you divorced THAT?" he cries in appreciation, applauding loudly enough to draw the attention of the entire restaurant.  
  
I cannot say that I am not completely unmoved by the sight of the lovely Miyako in what is obviously a newly purchased clingy blue silk pantsuit, but the thought of you clad in a similar fabric is far more intriguing at the moment.  
  
Strangely, she blushes when she sees us, but I comprehend quickly. Your light is coming in behind her- and I have reason to suspect that she is not only your light, but Miyako's as well. I hope the feeling is reciprocated, for both their sakes. Hikari has never had a real marriage. Artificial insemination will get you a child, but nothing in your bed.  
  
The boys wave to them, and both women return the gesture. Miyako blows a kiss, and then the two move on, seeming concerned with only each other.  
  
Your son smirks again. "Wouldn't it be cool if- "  
  
"No," I cut in quickly.  
  
He gives me an odd look for a moment, then his eyes widen. "Christ, they aren't REALLY- "  
  
"NO," I repeat. You wear an expression not unlike the pouts that were so common for you in childhood. After how many years, you still think of your light. Devotion is a frightening thing, but you handle it well enough that it is not quite obsession any longer.  
  
I think.  
  
"So you're . . . dating?" my son asks, distractions finally gone.  
  
"Ah . . ." I suddenly realize that I have yet to discuss this with you. I don't want to rush into anything that might make you-  
  
"Yup," you confirm idly, folding your napkin into a little paper crane and making it "fly" over my head.  
  
-uncomfortable. Damn again. Motomiyas are very scary people.  
  
Your crane does a kamikaze dive into the romantically lit candles and promptly sets first itself and then the tablecloth aflame. Your son resignedly pulls what appears to be an asbestos handkerchief out of his pocket and smothers the minor catastrophe. I hate to think it, but it seems as if he carries it around for that express purpose. I can't imagine why one would blow one's nose on asbestos, after all.  
  
"So, it's okay with you if we keep dating, right?" he asks without missing a beat. "So long as we don't whine about you getting' down an' dirty, at least?"  
  
"I have no objections, as long as you and my little, underage boy don't follow our example," I retort wryly. Said underage boy turns crimson again and your perverted offspring whistles innocently.  
  
You blush as well and look at me in a very endearing way, clearly embarrassed. "Ken . . . " you mutter, blush darkening.  
  
"Yes, lovely?" I ask mildly, smiling at you and slipping a hand under the table to brush against your so-nice little tush.  
  
Ahem.  
  
"You're not fit for human company," you tell me with a scowl, still chuckling briefly at my touch.  
  
"Don't paw my dad at the table; you'll wreck my appetite," your son says flatly. I notice his own hand, however, is also beneath the table and my own son is blushing even more so than before. The little hypocrite. I'd kill him if he weren't possibly going to become a relation.  
  
Crap. What happens if you and I move in together? I just know your boy would be more than glad for the chance to jump mine on a daily basis.  
  
. . . Oddly enough, I think I may let Miyako have uncontested custody of the children.  
  
Your ankle hooks around mine even as you give the boys a disapproving look, and I laugh softly. You're so cute, so sweet, so utterly, utterly my Daisuke. Your foot slowly makes its way up my calf and you grin at me, waggling your eyebrows.  
  
I could be here like this for forever and then some. Well, assuming I wouldn't need to use the restroom. Or die. Or go to work. Or see my other two children. Or pay for dinner. Or-  
  
Never mind. Logic sucks anyway.  
  
  
  
* ende *  
  
Wow. That was a bit longer than I thought it'd be, but . . . ^ ^;; Go me. Well, I think I may do a little lemon-flavored epilogue if anyone asks for it, but as for now, that is the end. 


	4. Boyfriend

A/N: Congratulations to Holy, who is now officially my muse regarding this storyline. I'm starting to like this kid. ^ ^ This is the second to last part. I think. Probably . . . I know, I said it'd be lemon, but this part just jumped me. Next time for sure.  
  
Dang, I'm gonna have to raise the rating of the fic again. ^ ^;;  
  
  
  
"Boyfriend"  
  
  
  
You're so beautiful, my Daisuke. Just seeing you is enough to make me shiver. You smile at me so very sweetly, even as you smack your son's hand away from the refrigerator door.  
  
"Enough," you say firmly. "Don't eat so much before bed; it's not healthy." He flashes you a pout but resignedly withdraws. He is a legal adult, yet the boy is still as childish as ever and obeys your orders.  
  
Unfortunately, denied food, he seeks other pastimes, such as the ever- popular "Let's See How Far I Can Get With My Boyfriend Before His Dad Snaps" game. Moving in with you was perhaps the best idea I have ever had, but keeping your son off of mine is about as easy as keeping a magnet off of stainless steel. Accurs'd joint custody- this would be far easier if the children lived with Miyako full-time instead of just every other week.  
  
It would also be far easier to get time alone with you. But I love my children dearly, so I can deal with being sexually starved.  
  
Probably.  
  
I think.  
  
How long until Miyako comes back for them again?  
  
I feel badly for wishing that my own progeny were elsewhere, because I really am glad to see them, but I have loved you since childhood and lusted after you for almost as long. I want to cement our bond, to hear our hearts beating as one again . . . to undress you on that wedding night that I always thought to be so impossible and now could well be possible.  
  
I pause in my wistful reverie to lightly smack your son upside the head as his nimble little fingers slip beneath MY son's waistband. He grins at me, utterly unremorseful, and my son blushes. Across the table, my eldest child gives the three of us a dubious look. The youngest is already in bed, curled up with the digimon who apparently are necessary for inducement of the REM cycle.  
  
"Isn't it about time for little boys to go to sleep?" I inquire 'innocently'. Your son's eyes light up, and I smack him again. "Don't even think it."  
  
You snigger behind your hand; then look meaningfully at the door to the hall.  
  
"You are NOT sending me to bed," my daughter protests, looking outraged. "I am a grown woman!" The boys give her mischievous smiles and pounce. They come up carrying her and march off to their rooms, loudly singing an old British fight song to drown out her shrieks of protest.  
  
You laugh, and I nearly melt at the sight of your grin. My beautiful, perfect Daisuke . . . I love you so much. The very same one who forgave me for being the Digital Kaiser as easily as he breathed. Precious, priceless Daisuke.  
  
"Kiss me," I say sudden, my expression perfectly serious but my heart beating like a rabbit's.  
  
You don't answer, instead grabbing my face and pulling me down to you. You could always talk up a blue storm, my Daisuke, but when it comes time to put your money where your mouth is, it's physicality that drives your impulses. I am such a lucky bastard.  
  
Your tongue is suddenly in my mouth, and your hands heading southward, the left finding purchase in my back pocket and the right unbuttoning . . . Oh my. You push me back against the kitchen counter, and I recall that you are probably quite repressed since your wife's passing. She was lovely and as addicted to you as I, but she was also your first and last serious relationship. I cannot see you betraying her memory with one-night stands either.  
  
So, am I your first after her? Am I . . . your first boyfriend?  
  
Boyfriend. Such a childish word . . . Seeming so pure and innocent. When what I want . . . when ALL I want now . . . is . . .  
  
"Fuck me," I whisper.  
  
You are so beautiful.  
  
  
  
* tbc . . . *  
  
Final installment coming soon to an Internet near you. 


	5. The Trick Is To Open Your Eyes

A/N: Please don't kill me. ^ ^;;  
  
  
  
"The Trick Is To Open Your Eyes"  
  
  
  
Your hands are hot, and my clothes melt away beneath them. You whisper my name once, breathlessly, and I moan as your breath stirs against sensitive skin. A snicker, and we fall onto the bed, hopelessly, wonderfully entangled.  
  
I am so in love with you that it hurts.  
  
Your fingers slip down between my legs, tangling in the coarse hair there and I hiss in surprise. I have felt these things before, with Miyako, but never with so much emotion behind them. The difference is almost indescribable- like being blind all one's life, and then suddenly realizing that the trick is to open your eyes. You feel stupid and foolish, but you're also so incredibly grateful that you've finally gotten it right.  
  
I slide backwards on the bed, leaning back against your pillows, and your sweet smile turns unabashedly predatory as you slink towards me on your hands and knees. I shiver with anticipation, and your eyes gleam in what little light is in the room.  
  
"Dear," you purr, and slide into my lap. My reaction is what one would expect from a naked person with a beautiful and horny boyfriend spooned up against them, and your smile is absolutely wicked when you notice.  
  
"Daisuke," I say weakly, my face reddening. You chuckle and wink at me- and then lunge forward and take me in your mouth. I barely keep myself from shrieking in shock even as stars explode across my vision.  
  
Your tongue is already going to a number of inventive places, and it's all I can do not to wail. But the children are just down the hall, and if I educate them about my sex life, I think Miyako will quite literally kill me. Or worse.  
  
I gasp hoarsely, my hands flying to your hair, and you yelp in surprise, jerking back with a pained curse. I feel my face reddening again and I mutter an apology. You just shrug and rub at your poor, sore head.  
  
"It's okay," you tell me. "Um, Ken . . . you know- I don't think I told you this before, but . . . I've never . . . done this. I mean, I HAVE, but not with . . ." You trail off, suddenly blushing.  
  
"Never with another man?" I guess, and you nod quickly, blush darkening. "I haven't either."  
  
" . . . Do you have any idea how we're supposed to do this?" you ask finally.  
  
"I was hoping you would."  
  
The two of us stare at each other for a long moment; then simultaneously crack up.  
  
  
  
* tbc . . . * 


End file.
